Just Another Brick - Nobody Home
Story: " Just Another Brick" (<--Click for Master List)
Chapter Title: "Nobody Home"
Author: illyriaz_shell
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Peter, Sylar (of the non-slashy variety)
Rating: T (ish?)
Disclaimer: Nothing’s mine. Neither Heroes nor the film that is discussed and quoted.
Warning: Spoilers up to 4.18. See Master List for all the authors notes.
Story Summary: A series of non-continuous ficlets showcasing missing scenes from the YEARS Sylar and Peter spent in their walled-in mind city.
--
Chapter Summary: After a year, Sylar and Peter have gotten to a stage where they feel comfortable talking to each other, but each see flaws in each other’s line of thinking.
---
---
“...and then,” Sylar paused. Both speaking and hammering against the wall. Taking a large breath, he turned to Peter.
“Listen, we don’t have to talk about this. I know it’s difficult enough being trapped here with me without having to me relate all my past...indiscretions.”
Without looking away from the wall, Peter continued to slam his sledgehammer into the bricks, punctuating each pause with a loud clang. “It’s fine. ...Well, all your murders aren’t. But...think of this time...as like a confessional.... If you truly want... to redeem yourself...if you want to get out of here... you’re going to have to face up to your past.... And since you’ve already done the worst to me...”
“...again, Peter, I’m sorry...” Sylar started, but Peter continued on, ignoring his millionth apology.
“...nothing you say...nothing you confess...is really going to shock me...Disgust, maybe...” Peter took one last swing, stopped, rubbed the area of the wall to confirm that, no, he hadn’t made a dent. Resting the sledgehammer against the stone, he walked over to the ledge, where a group of water bottles that seemed to appear whenever the two worked together on breaking down the wall. Small comforts. He opened a fresh one and downed half the liquid in one gulp. “Honestly, until we get out of here, we’ve got nothing but time to swap stories, even if half of them involve different viewpoints of us going head to head.”
Sylar stopped to consider. They had spent nearly a year trying to break down this wall, but the majority of that time had been spent apart or in deafening silence between the two as they worked side by side. Sylar wasn’t sure if it was the fact that they were the last two men on Earth, but he was somehow comforted that Peter had warmed up to his presence after all this time. He was, after all, aiming for redemption, and the fact that one of the people he owed the largest debt to was willing to help him out, even in this way, was surely a sign that it was possible. Wasn’t it?
“Alright, but it involves me killing...more people...” Sylar said hesitantly.
“Always does,” Peter commented offhandedly, taking another swig of the water.
“...and just general 'being a bad guy.'”
“Uh huh.” Peter said, looking unfocused.
“So I wake up on the road, and this brother and sister, Maya and Alejandro, pick me up. She’s got this horrific ability to infect everyone around her with a rapid killing disease. God, I wanted that power so badly, I don’t even know why. I mean...well anyway, they’re fugitive too, looking for Suresh.”
“Mohinder? Why?”
“His father, Chandra. And because they’d read his textbook. I told them I knew him...” and Sylar began to recount the tale of his trip with the Ebola Twins back to New York. There were several times where Peter noticeably flinched or muttered disapproval, which was to be expected. Sylar honestly wished he could sound more remorseful about his actions during that particular journey, but it hadn’t been all bad.
“...so I had to kill him. Which is a lot easier to do manually than I expected...but it was awkward when Maya showed up outside my motel room a minute after his body had hit the ground. I lied to her, told her that her brother had abandoned the both of us. Then I kind of...”
Peter, who had gotten back to working on the wall, stopped. “You what...”
“I kinda...slept with her.”
Peter’s eyes shot open. “With her brother dead , body not even cold?”
Sylar merely nodded.
Jaw slightly agape, he let out a half hearted laugh. “Wow, man. Just wow. Not that I’d thought you had shame to begin with.”
“You’re the one who wanted to know.”
“Didn’t say ‘wanted.’ Thought it would be productive.”
Sylar began to feel defensive, “Hey, man. Listen, I hadn’t been laid since long before my power manifested. Please don’t tell me you haven’t taken some inopportune moments from your gig as Boy Wonder to get some.”
Peter said nothing, and went back to striking the wall.
“Well. That was a punctuated non-answer.” Sylar mused.
Peter took a while to respond. “I haven’t really, busy with trying to save the world on multiple occasions. Most of the time, from you....Well, there was Simone, but that didn’t go anywhere considering she was...” Peter went silent for a moment. Clearly this memory pained him; Sylar had to assume that this woman had died. “And then Kaitlin. I thought about looking her up, but...”
“But what?” Sylar asked, lifting an eyebrow with intrigue.
“Iit was a really weird time when I met Kaitlin. I told you about this yesterday. I didn’t remember who I was, and ever since my memories became re-integrated, my mind became kind of jumbled...”
“Know the feeling,” Sylar inserted.
Peter continued, “and I don’t know if the person I was with my memories would be the same guy she had fallen for and, I don’t know...”
“Well,” Sylar asked, “I’m fairly certain your inherently optimistic and hopelessly heroic, memories or not. If that’s the only thing keeping you apart, I’d say you should call her. When, you know, we get out of here.”
“First of all, I’m a bit pre-occupied with Emma, primarily saving her, and then possibly...not sure. She...has my attention. Anyway, Kaitlin is probably furious with me about that whole future plague thing.”
“Wait, what? Back it up,” Sylar interjected. “You said yesterday that you’d gone to the future, seen my favourite power-blocking plague, and came back in time to stop it.”
“Yes...” Peter wasn’t sure how this restatement of facts was relevant.
“You never mentioned her in all of this.”
“Yeah, well, right before I got my memories back, I accidentally transported her and I to the future where the plague was running rampant. She got caught up in some containment crowd, so when I came back from that future, I made sure that plague wouldn’t get out so none of that ever happened and she, amongst billions, would be safe.”
“You came back from that future?” Sylar stated. Peter simply nodded.
“Alone?” Sylar queried, incredulous. Pete nodded again.
“The future that didn’t happen?”
“Yes...”Peter responded slowly, clearly not understanding this line of questioning.
“And if you were to contact Kaitlin after we get out of here, where would you plan on getting a hold of her?” Sylar prodded.
“I guess she’s probably back in Ireland.”Peter said, unsure.
Sylar wasn’t going to paint this picture any clearer for The Righteous One. “She’s back in Ireland? From the alternate future, that you prevented...”
“...wait...” Peter said, realization dawning on his face.
“..and didn’t bring her back from?!” Sylar finished.
Peter, dropped his sledgehammer, eyes wide in panic. “Oh. Fuck!”
Sylar, who figured a large part of him still must be evil, was unable to stop himself from laughing.
Peter, after quite visibly freaking out, began mercilessly kicking the brick wall. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck...”
Chapter Title: "Nobody Home"
Author: illyriaz_shell
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Peter, Sylar (of the non-slashy variety)
Rating: T (ish?)
Disclaimer: Nothing’s mine. Neither Heroes nor the film that is discussed and quoted.
Warning: Spoilers up to 4.18. See Master List for all the authors notes.
Story Summary: A series of non-continuous ficlets showcasing missing scenes from the YEARS Sylar and Peter spent in their walled-in mind city.
--
Chapter Summary: After a year, Sylar and Peter have gotten to a stage where they feel comfortable talking to each other, but each see flaws in each other’s line of thinking.
---
---
“...and then,” Sylar paused. Both speaking and hammering against the wall. Taking a large breath, he turned to Peter.
“Listen, we don’t have to talk about this. I know it’s difficult enough being trapped here with me without having to me relate all my past...indiscretions.”
Without looking away from the wall, Peter continued to slam his sledgehammer into the bricks, punctuating each pause with a loud clang. “It’s fine. ...Well, all your murders aren’t. But...think of this time...as like a confessional.... If you truly want... to redeem yourself...if you want to get out of here... you’re going to have to face up to your past.... And since you’ve already done the worst to me...”
“...again, Peter, I’m sorry...” Sylar started, but Peter continued on, ignoring his millionth apology.
“...nothing you say...nothing you confess...is really going to shock me...Disgust, maybe...” Peter took one last swing, stopped, rubbed the area of the wall to confirm that, no, he hadn’t made a dent. Resting the sledgehammer against the stone, he walked over to the ledge, where a group of water bottles that seemed to appear whenever the two worked together on breaking down the wall. Small comforts. He opened a fresh one and downed half the liquid in one gulp. “Honestly, until we get out of here, we’ve got nothing but time to swap stories, even if half of them involve different viewpoints of us going head to head.”
Sylar stopped to consider. They had spent nearly a year trying to break down this wall, but the majority of that time had been spent apart or in deafening silence between the two as they worked side by side. Sylar wasn’t sure if it was the fact that they were the last two men on Earth, but he was somehow comforted that Peter had warmed up to his presence after all this time. He was, after all, aiming for redemption, and the fact that one of the people he owed the largest debt to was willing to help him out, even in this way, was surely a sign that it was possible. Wasn’t it?
“Alright, but it involves me killing...more people...” Sylar said hesitantly.
“Always does,” Peter commented offhandedly, taking another swig of the water.
“...and just general 'being a bad guy.'”
“Uh huh.” Peter said, looking unfocused.
“So I wake up on the road, and this brother and sister, Maya and Alejandro, pick me up. She’s got this horrific ability to infect everyone around her with a rapid killing disease. God, I wanted that power so badly, I don’t even know why. I mean...well anyway, they’re fugitive too, looking for Suresh.”
“Mohinder? Why?”
“His father, Chandra. And because they’d read his textbook. I told them I knew him...” and Sylar began to recount the tale of his trip with the Ebola Twins back to New York. There were several times where Peter noticeably flinched or muttered disapproval, which was to be expected. Sylar honestly wished he could sound more remorseful about his actions during that particular journey, but it hadn’t been all bad.
“...so I had to kill him. Which is a lot easier to do manually than I expected...but it was awkward when Maya showed up outside my motel room a minute after his body had hit the ground. I lied to her, told her that her brother had abandoned the both of us. Then I kind of...”
Peter, who had gotten back to working on the wall, stopped. “You what...”
“I kinda...slept with her.”
Peter’s eyes shot open. “With her brother dead , body not even cold?”
Sylar merely nodded.
Jaw slightly agape, he let out a half hearted laugh. “Wow, man. Just wow. Not that I’d thought you had shame to begin with.”
“You’re the one who wanted to know.”
“Didn’t say ‘wanted.’ Thought it would be productive.”
Sylar began to feel defensive, “Hey, man. Listen, I hadn’t been laid since long before my power manifested. Please don’t tell me you haven’t taken some inopportune moments from your gig as Boy Wonder to get some.”
Peter said nothing, and went back to striking the wall.
“Well. That was a punctuated non-answer.” Sylar mused.
Peter took a while to respond. “I haven’t really, busy with trying to save the world on multiple occasions. Most of the time, from you....Well, there was Simone, but that didn’t go anywhere considering she was...” Peter went silent for a moment. Clearly this memory pained him; Sylar had to assume that this woman had died. “And then Kaitlin. I thought about looking her up, but...”
“But what?” Sylar asked, lifting an eyebrow with intrigue.
“Iit was a really weird time when I met Kaitlin. I told you about this yesterday. I didn’t remember who I was, and ever since my memories became re-integrated, my mind became kind of jumbled...”
“Know the feeling,” Sylar inserted.
Peter continued, “and I don’t know if the person I was with my memories would be the same guy she had fallen for and, I don’t know...”
“Well,” Sylar asked, “I’m fairly certain your inherently optimistic and hopelessly heroic, memories or not. If that’s the only thing keeping you apart, I’d say you should call her. When, you know, we get out of here.”
“First of all, I’m a bit pre-occupied with Emma, primarily saving her, and then possibly...not sure. She...has my attention. Anyway, Kaitlin is probably furious with me about that whole future plague thing.”
“Wait, what? Back it up,” Sylar interjected. “You said yesterday that you’d gone to the future, seen my favourite power-blocking plague, and came back in time to stop it.”
“Yes...” Peter wasn’t sure how this restatement of facts was relevant.
“You never mentioned her in all of this.”
“Yeah, well, right before I got my memories back, I accidentally transported her and I to the future where the plague was running rampant. She got caught up in some containment crowd, so when I came back from that future, I made sure that plague wouldn’t get out so none of that ever happened and she, amongst billions, would be safe.”
“You came back from that future?” Sylar stated. Peter simply nodded.
“Alone?” Sylar queried, incredulous. Pete nodded again.
“The future that didn’t happen?”
“Yes...”Peter responded slowly, clearly not understanding this line of questioning.
“And if you were to contact Kaitlin after we get out of here, where would you plan on getting a hold of her?” Sylar prodded.
“I guess she’s probably back in Ireland.”Peter said, unsure.
Sylar wasn’t going to paint this picture any clearer for The Righteous One. “She’s back in Ireland? From the alternate future, that you prevented...”
“...wait...” Peter said, realization dawning on his face.
“..and didn’t bring her back from?!” Sylar finished.
Peter, dropped his sledgehammer, eyes wide in panic. “Oh. Fuck!”
Sylar, who figured a large part of him still must be evil, was unable to stop himself from laughing.
Peter, after quite visibly freaking out, began mercilessly kicking the brick wall. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck...”